Counterpart, My Other Half
by Swift-Star9
Summary: I stand behind you, a "prodigy". But "prodigy" means nothing to you or me, my twin. Counterpart, other half. Adjutant, a step behind. Protecting the back of the one ahead. A/N: Yukio-centric, not slash!


**A/N**: This will be my first published fic in AoNoEx. I'm working on a bunch, but have higher expectations for those. This is drabble is based on the anime and Dream Theater's "Breaking All Illusions." I kinda lost momentum near the end though.

Disclaimer: I do not own AoNoEx. Nor do I own the Dimmu Borgir song "Sacrilegious Scorn" ("Your world is like floods of poisoned water / A language spoken with spit from different tongues").

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><p>Counterpart, second half.<p>

Adjutant, one step behind.

Protecting the back of the one ahead.

One ahead. One behind. Trapped by expectation and strength. Always stuck one step behind. Always almost to the top - and never there.

I see you in front of me. Blue flames cover you, a person full of irrational confidence and blatant honesty. Hamfisted excuses and unbridled raw energy combat the fears haunting you. I stand behind you, prodigy, student of medicine and war. It doesn't matter. Whether a million years or one single day in advance, "prodigy" means nothing to you or me, my twin. The skills in my hand, trained guile and eagle-eye, are irrelevant in the presence of the one ahead, who I know is on another level yet I remain bemused as to why.

Baseline. Remeasurement. Obsessively comparing myself to the one ahead. I have nothing, no skills. Neither does the one ahead. What is the difference? Myself hiding in delusions of accomplishment, how can a frenetic mind of chaos be on another level? But those beautiful, terrifying blue flames, epitome of destruction. But that raw mindless courage, essence of will. Myself? Epitome of weakness. Essence of cowardice. What is strength if not the ability to be recognized by others? What use is strength, if compared to anyone else, I have nothing?

I am standing behind with myself and my closest friend, my self-analysis. He understands me more than anyone else. We talk for hours on end. We are the caricature of weakness. The silence from a pathetic person who doesn't talk to anyone about what he feels. The mourning and resentment of a lonely self-absorbed soul. The self-loathing brat seeking pity for for a life yet unlived. We stand together. We stand, both behind the one ahead. We are close.

One day, a spark dances in our palms. What is it? Brilliant royal blue light just beyond our reach. My friend reminds me it's the power of the one ahead. It burns in my veins. My friend tells me it will destroy me. It fascinates me. My friend screams at me, reminding me that I'm still the one behind. It is now my obsession. To become something else, something not powerless and weak. An opportunity to jump ahead. The chance to become something not me.

I haven't heard from my friend for days. Alone and obsessed, I seek the strength that I envy. Fears begin to plague me. Whispers that were once assuaged by my friend harangue me. It gets so hard, separating the noise from the signal. They get quieter strangely when I completes my work. Gunshots ringing, binding a splint around someone's arm, work... quiets the fears. I must work more, work longer.

He's still overshadowing me, the one ahead of me. One ahead, I am trying so damned hard. I am alone, fears and sparks surrounding me. Forced myself into overdrive, I am stretched thin. Yet the one ahead does not notice, completely self-satisfied and ignorant of me. Sibling - what does it mean? Blood bond? Support? My thoughts of him are warping. Slowly not seeing the grandeur of the number one, or the better twin. Slowly seeing a self-absorbed child with a power he doesn't understand.

I would overtake him. He would be overshadowed by me.

Overtake. Usurp. Ambition. Stepping forward, I see the one ahead of me yelling at me, not understanding me. Bitterness consumes me, as all I can think is that... now he notices me. Only now. Don't do this, he yells. Stop it. Ha. Was cynical amusement a crime? For this is what I want, my twin. Saying I don't understand, what lies are that? You are speaking the language with spit from different tongues. There was nothing to understand, because I am in control. I will win.

One in front. Now me. Ahead of the one that was. I have it all. But deep within me, discontentment seethes. The obsession is dying, leaving the fears. Fascinating beautiful blue flames twist, turning into grotesque blue nightmares and specters, swallowing me. Tectonics of insecurity rattle my core. Loneliness. Where has my friend gone?

I have won! Why do I feel like this at all? Remeasurement. Baseline. Expectations turning me ever narrower, transforming me into an idealized Golem. A mechanized ideal of what others desire. I have become a puppet. No, I never even changed. Still epitome of fear, essence of cowardice.

Second in line, behind the one ahead, needs my help. Save him. The specters stand in front of me. Save him. Blue specters taunt me. Save him. Blood flowing from the pried open wound.

Language of envy fading. Loss of life in front of me. Failing bitter and cynical thoughts, revealing the truths I might have believed in all along. Truths I had forgotten in place of a childish tantrum. Anger and rage give way to shame and lonely sadness. I am alone, ambition - my ambition - has destroyed someone. What can I do? My friend... tell me! What can I do?

Peace overtook my being.

Ah... that's right.

Thank you for coming back to me.

Standing in stead of second in line, blood flows from my veins into the detestable puddle. The blue specters laugh at my last moment as a human until they run through my veins. Blue flames envelope me, warping my body. Returning it to the twisted version of a human that I always was. Yet my mind has never been clearer. Thoughts of bitterness, shame and rage... are going away. The whispers are gone.

The stolen power stormed within myself. Second in line, eviscerated of all the haunting blue fire. Myself, not noticing as my body begins to fall apart. Second in line, saved. Myself, relieved that I had defeated my only enemy, myself. Second in line, screaming to help. He can't save me though. Essence of will, epitome of destruction. I smile. Still desperate to save me despite how my body was rejecting the blue fire. I never had surpassed him.

Always one step behind, my last memory is his face. I see you standing over me, your tears fall onto my face. I hug him one last time - my twin. My last moment, as the one behind that I always was. One ahead, my twin... I miss you. Remember not my childish behavior. Remember only that I loved you.

One ahead. One behind. Released, no longer one step behind or ahead.

Protecting the back of the one ahead.

Adjutant, a step behind.

Counterpart, my other half.


End file.
